sometimes i still feel you whirling around inside the air I breath
your energy lingers
like a ghost
not here in person
but in spirit

You killed me
and I somehow blame the moon and the stars
not you
pain is universal
there is no originality in heartbreak
in death
in trauma
You killed me yet somehow
all I can do
is blame the moon and the stars

I am not the same person tonight
As I was this morning
Time moves slowly for me
The hours drag on
A constant sense of boredom consumes me
I watch the hours go by as I feel my white blood cells turned to red
Don’t take this the wrong way
For life does not bore me
I’m curious
Passionate
I love and I hate
I’m simply referring to the neutral state between human antics
I’m referring  to the constant void that is my consciousness
I’m unfamiliar with the definition of contentment
Satisfaction is a boredom induced daydream how could I ever expect to sustain a satisfaction when within the 24 hours of the day
I am 24 different people

the convenience about being
a magical women is that
I can be gone
just as quickly as I came
and if im still here
there
i wont wont be for far too long